


Can't Buy Me Love

by Periwinkle39



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, Humor, Romance, Starklings (ASoIaF), have a wedding to scam billionaires au, jonsa, tumblr post inspired, yes that's the au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle39/pseuds/Periwinkle39
Summary: In an effort to make "easy" money, Robb, Theon and Arya send random billionaires fake wedding invitations to see if they send back gifts and cash.Unbeknownst to Sansa and Jon, they are the fake bride and groom.Unbeknownst to Robb, Theon and Arya, Sansa and Jon know some billionaires.Yeah, it's crack fic based on a tumblr post ;)
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 235
Kudos: 547





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this tumblr post after a long day and night at work and decided, why not make this a jonsa thing.
> 
> https://chocolateghost.tumblr.com/post/188688073998/ladywolfmd-awful-brew-xxfangirlanonymousxx

“We need money.”

Jon looks up to see his roommate and best friend, Robb, standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips. Jon is sitting on the floor, papers and 3-inch thick law books covering the rickety coffee table in front of him.

“What?”

“Money! We need it.” 

Jon goes back to his books, grumbling, “What do you mean _we_?“

Robb practically throws himself on the coach behind Jon with a sigh that would make most romance novel heroines blush. “Fine. _I_ need money.”

“Dude, full offense—you’re loaded.” 

Jon chuckles as might-as-well-be-the-third-roommate-he’s-here-so-often Theon settles in the recliner across from them while he opens a beer. “You know I hate nothing more than to agree with Greyjoy, but—“

“Listen,” Robb says, “I’m not loaded. My parents are loaded and they also have five kids and as many dogs so I’m officially off the payroll—“

“And officially dating Margaery Tyrell, who I’m guessing has never had a restaurant meal that cost less than 200 dragons,” Theon says.

Jon turns to get a look at Robb, who has been trying to keep his whatever it is with his younger sister’s best friend on the down low. Goal obviously not accomplished. 

“All I’m saying is my current status is poor, lowly grad student like you peasants and I’m in serious need of cash. Your ancestors are pirates or something, Theon. Don’t you know any scams of some kind?”

“Do I get to keep any of this money?” Theon asks.

“Maybe. How much are we talking?”

“Maybe? If I’m coming up with the plan, I get at least half!”

“You haven’t even told me what the plan is!”

“Depends on how far we want to go? How desperate are you?”

Before Robb can answer, though, Jon stands with a huff and gathers all his papers and books. “As lucrative as Theon’s schemes always are, I think I’m just going to let you two keep all the cash I am sure is going to be piling up in no time, which means I’ll have to work for a living, which means I need to get through law school, which means I need to find some other place to get this paper done, I guess. OK, thanks, bye.”

After dropping everything into his back pack, Jon heads out to the university library and assuming he’s likely staying overnight, holing himself up in the 24-hour room until he gets this paper done. 

On his way out, he runs into Robb’s sisters on the sidewalk outside their walk-up. They also might as well be roommates, but Jon has no complaints about them. Well, he’d prefer if Arya didn’t drink all his beer, but he appreciates that she likes IPAs as much as he does. He certainly has no complaints about Sansa, the world’s most perfect and beautiful person thank you very much. 

“What’s the rush?” Arya asks.

“Theon and Robb are working on a get-rich-quick scheme,” Jon said with a shrug. “Figured I’d get out before I lost anymore brain cells listening to them.”

Arya throws her head back in laughter. “OK, I have to hear this shit.” 

Jon opens the outside door for her and she disappears up the stairs to the second floor apartment. He keeps the door open assuming Sansa is going to follow, but she only smiles that smile that he loves and says, “I think you have the right idea, honestly.”

He lets the door close and watches her as she looks down and bites her lip. “So … you going anywhere you want company?” she asks quietly. 

_Paper? What paper?_

“Just to grab a coffee. Um … do you want to come?”

“OK,” she asks with a shrug, but her eyes are bright.

They head to the place they always go to a few blocks away.

“So why does Robb think he needs money?”

Jon smiles the smile Sansa loves. The one that makes his eyes crinkle. “Well, you know Robb likes to show off. I think he’s just trying to impress Margaery, and she kind of puts the high in high maintenance.”

Sansa giggles. “For Marge, it’s less about the money and more about making boys squirm.” After a beat, she adds, “Let’s just hope whatever Robb and Theon come up with is entertaining at least.”

* * *

_Meanwhile back at the apartment …_

“Wait—your idea is to have a wedding?” Robb asks.

“No,” Theon responds with a roll of his eyes. “To send out invitations for a wedding. We don’t actually have to have one. Weddings are expensive as fuck! Just send invitations to random rich people. If they’re really rich, they probably don’t open their own mail, right? The assistants don’t know or give a shit, so they probably just write you a check or send you some expensive fondue pot or whatever that we can just sell on eBay.”

“This is a surprisingly good idea, Greyjoy,” Arya says. “I’m almost impressed. You still have to print out invites, though.”

“It takes money to make money,” Theon says with a serious nod of his head.

“Are you just going to make up names?” Robb asks.

“Make it Jon and Sansa,” Arya says, and Theon’s eyes light up.

“Brilliant! Matchmaking and money-making at the same time.”

Robb looks back and forth between the two of them. “Wait, what? Jon and Sansa?”

Arya stands up from where she’s sitting next to her brother on the couch and pats him on the head on the way to the kitchen to get a beer. “You are so clueless, Robbert.”

* * *

_One month later …_

“Hi, Jon it’s Aunt Dany! It’s been sooooooo long since I’ve heard from you, but I was sooooo excited to get the wedding invitation. I am definitely coming and definitely buying you, like, your entire registry. Rhaegar’s money is literally just sitting there waiting for you to get over yourself and take it, nephew of mine. Anyway, call me back. I want to figure out where I should stay and what you want, and I want to meet your gorgeous fiancee! Yes, I googled her. You and your redheads! OK, this is the world’s longest voicemail officially. Call your auntie!”

Jon stares at his phone like it’s grown a tail. “_What_?”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not that they’re sneaking around _per se_.  
  
It’s just that after going to coffee together last month, it turned into a regular thing that nobody else knew about.

They have always been friends in that way that people who have been in the same friend group for ages all sort of know everything about each other, but the last few weeks have been different.

Jon doesn’t think Robb or Theon or even the ever perceptive Arya have noticed because they’ve been knee deep in _something_ lately. He would ask what except he doesn’t care. Who could care about anything else now that there might be a Jon and Sansa.

Jon and Sansa have always been friends, but never before has there been a Jon and Sansa. 

Jon is not sure if there is, to be honest. He doesn’t know if it’s so fragile a thing that acknowledging it might break it, but he keeps showing up and so does she, and when they sit now they’re closer together than they were at first, their legs slot together under the table, her smiles are brighter. Her smiles are for _him_. 

He can tell when they’re back at the apartment and everyone else is around. They don’t sit so close then, but the bright side of that is catching her watching him across the room. That _look_. It’s only there when _he’s_ looking at her. 

Of course, it’s the same for Sansa. Years of dismissing him as broody and closed off have given way to intimate knowledge of the planes of his face, how tiny movements and micro expressions reveal so much. She can read him now, and all she wants is to know more.

This is why, when she walks into the coffeeshop on this day, she immediately notices the puzzled expression on his face. 

He’s staring at his phone sitting at a table in the back of the shop. His favorite spot. 

(She might as well call it their spot because mercifully nobody else comes here nearly frequently enough to catch them coming here together.) 

“Looking for the key to the universe?”

He jumps and she laughs, surprised and delighted that she’s taken him by surprise because it means she can enjoy the sight of him blushing. 

“Oh! Hi!”

“Hi.”

They smile at each other as she sits. Getting to look at each other and enjoy it is still such a novelty. “So what are you looking at?” she asks.

“Oh,” he says again, looking back down at the phone. “It’s nothing—I … Well, do you remember my secret aunt that I told you about that nobody else knows about?”

Sansa nods.

“You actually might have heard of her. She’s sort of internet famous.”

“Really?”

“It’s Danaerys Targaryen.”

“The heiress?”

“Yeah. She’s my father’s younger sister.”

“She’s your aunt? But isn’t she our age?”

Jon chuckles. “I come from a long line of problematic men, apparently.”

“I thought you didn’t know your dad.”

“I don’t really. He died when I was a kid. Dany … she grew up alone too. She found out I existed when my father died and reached out to me. We talk maybe once a year.”

Sansa takes his hand. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Jon shrugs, looking at their fingers twined together. ”My father, he never really had any interest in me after he knocked up my mom, so I never really cared about that side of my family. None of that is Dany’s fault, but she wants me to have half the money my father and grandfather left her and that’s the last thing I want. She’s not a bad person and means well, but she can be … a lot. I should probably talk to her more, it’s just—“

Sansa squeezes his hand, still in hers. “You shouldn’t at your own expense. It may not be her fault your dad was an asshole, but that doesn’t require you to deal with her either. Not if you don’t want to. Having family who wants to be there for you is always nice, but it’s still your choice.”

Jon smiles at her understanding. Sansa just _gets _him. 

“So she reached out again? Is that why she’s on your mind?”

Jon’s face crinkles back into puzzlement. ”Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing. She just left me a message saying she’s excited about getting my wedding invitation. I mean, she’s a little bit of a kook, but it usually stops short of disengagement from reality.”

“That is … weird.”

Something about Sansa’s tone confuses Jon. “What is it?”

“Uh … Yesterday, my friend Brienne texted me and said her dad emailed her out of the blue because he got an invitation to _my _wedding.”

“Really?”

“I told her Sansa’s not an uncommon name in the north. The odds of there being another Sansa Stark out there aren’t exactly low.”

Jon feels a tingle in the back of his mind. “But another Sansa Stark who would send your friend’s dad a wedding invite?”

Sansa shrugs. “It wasn’t me obviously.”

Jon and Sansa look at each other like they are putting a puzzle together without the full picture.

Suddenly, Sansa opens her bag and grabs her phone and calls her friend, putting the call on speaker. Brienne answers on the second ring.

“Hi, Brienne, it’s San. I know this is random, but that wedding invitation that your dad thought was from me. What was the name of the groom?”

On the other end of the line, Brienne replies, “I don’t remember off the top of my head, but hold on a sec. He sent me a picture of it.”

Sansa bites her lip as she waits in a way that Jon finds too adorable.

“Here it is,” Brienne says. “It’s Jonathan Snow. Wait—isn’t that the name of the guy you’re in lo—“

Sansa’s eyes wided and she scrambles to end the call. “OK, THANKS I’LL CALL YOU LATER!” 

She doesn't need to worry, though, because Jon’s mind has been stuck on hearing his name. “For some reason I have a feeling this is not a coincidence,” he says.

Sansa’s heart is beating a mile a minute so it takes her a minute to realize what's happening. Jon has pulled his own phone out, only to notice he has another voicemail from Dany. He plays it so Sansa can hear too. 

“Hi, again, Jon! OK, so like I said I am sooooo super thrilled you’re getting married and totally want to be there for you. And thinking about it just now I remembered that I saw this thing online once where you can, like, become an ordained priest or whatever to marry people. Probably not a priest. But I don’t know what it’s called. Officer? Officiant!! That’s it. OK! So anyway, I’m telling my assistant to look into it so I can do it so I can marry you and Sansa! I love her name. Super regal! I guess if she doesn’t want me to marry you two, I won’t force you or whatever. But wouldn’t it be so rad? This is Aunt Dany again, by the way. CALL ME BACK!” 

Sansa laughs out loud as he puts his phone away again. “OK, I have to meet her. She’s _hilarious_.”

“Did you miss the part where she said _your _name regarding my supposed wedding?”

“No,” Sansa says with an embarrassed laugh. “I just wanted to get that out there, but you’re right. This is _not_ a coincidence.”

Jon scratches the back of his neck nervously, not sure whether to laugh or cry. They look at each other for a heated moment, until they both start laughing until they are laughing _and_ crying. Eventually, they both calm down and, with a sigh, say what they assume the answer is at the same time.

“_Theon_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooooo much for all the support! This continues to be total crack--please don't look for realism here lol. Just having a laugh! 
> 
> Hope everyone continues to enjoy the story!

“We hereby invite you to our wedding?” Sansa covers her face in embarrassment. “I would _never_ choose these words for our wedding invitation.”

Jon feels heat coming into his cheeks when she says “_our_ wedding invitation.” He wants to point out that it isn’t real, that she doesn’t actually have to refer to it as _theirs_. But also he _doesn’t_. 

“Well, if it _is_ Theon, it’s not like he's exactly the most sophisticated person we know.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “I sense the distinct influence of Arya as well. Theon would never have thought to make the Winterfell Godswood the location. Arya knows that’s where I’ve always wanted to have my wedding, but they made the time in the middle of the day. At night, it’s so much prettier and romantic.”

Jon can’t help but laugh and gives in, finally voicing the obvious. “I know it has our names on it, but you know this is not a real wedding invitation, right?”

Sansa laughs at herself. “I know! I can’t help it! My inner bridezilla is bursting out. If they were going to go to all this trouble, why couldn’t they get more of the details right?”

The situation is a laugh, but Jon can’t help but wonder. 

They are young. She is 22 and just out of design school, and he 25 and halfway to his law degree. And yet in another universe, in a different version of this very life, perhaps one in which his awkward teenage self is not so awkward, he might have said something long ago about how in love he’s been all along, they might have been childhood sweethearts, might be talking about _their_ wedding at this moment as if it were a real thing.

But it isn’t. 

It’s only a foolish concoction by their friends and when Jon has a minute alone with Theon, the latter might find himself in need of an ice pack. 

Brienne has sent them the picture of the invitation, which includes a link to a registry. They sit hip-to-hip still at the coffee shop, heads together over the screen of Jon’s laptop. 

The inelegant wording of the invitation might be embarrassment enough for Sansa, but it’s nothing until they begin perusing the registry, half of which has already been purchased. Jon can only assume Dany is making good on the promise she left on his voicemail to buy him everything.

“An XBox!?! I would _never_ let you put a gaming system on our wedding registry!”

Again, Jon laughs. He can’t stop laughing at the fact that he can’t get her to stop doing it. She doesn’t even seem to realize it. 

_Our registry._

“Look at this one,” he says, scrolling through. “His and hers fencing foils.”

“I told you Arya was in on this! Oh, and look the tartan on this bedspread. That’s 100 percent Robb.”

“I can’t believe he added something so normal. And here I thought he was just trying to impress Margaery.”

Sansa looks at him with a teasing grin. “Do I need to tell you what happens when two people like each other, Jon.”

He chuckles, embarrassed. “Oh, so that _is_ for her, is it?”

“Marge is very particular about her thread counts.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Sansa watches him as he keeps scrolling through the list. He feels her eyes on him and turns to look at her again. He looks at her with this . . . profound sweetness. Before she even realizes she’s doing it, Sansa leans into him and runs her fingers through his hair.

His eyes, squinted into that nice smile of his not one minute ago, open fully in surprise, but he doesn’t back away. As if finally fealizing what she’s doing, the intimacy of it, Sansa sits back in her chair and sighs, thinking of something to say that might dispel the sudden thickness in the air between them. “I can’t believe they would do this. The nerve!”

Jon rubs his face with his hands as if to wake himself up from the momentary reverie her touch put him in. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to tell Dany? Sorry my friends tried to trick you into buying them stupid shit. I . . .”

“What?” Sansa asks quietly, sensing serious concern in his sudden change in tone. 

“What if she thinks _I _did this to trick her? Even if I explain, what’s going to keep her from not believing me if I tell her I had nothing to do with it?”

“You don’t think she would believe you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve tried so hard to keep her at arms length and haven’t been particularly subtle about it at times. If she finds out this is fake . . . I haven’t given her much reason not to assume the worst. Fuck!”

Sansa puts her hand on his shoulder. “Well, if she thinks you would do something so duplicitous, she doesn’t know you because you’re the most honest person I know.”

Jon smiles, so grateful for her in this moment. 

“So what do you want to do?” she asks.

“Dany’s in Dragonstone, so maybe I should pay her a visit and explain in person, but obviously that’s not for today. Robb and Theon, on the other hand—“

“Don’t forget Arya. I know you two are close, but how far would this idea had gotten if it had just been up to Robb and Theon?”

“Fair point. I’m half tempted to keep this stuff ourselves just to see them all squirm.”

Sansa’s eyes sparkle suddenly in a way Jon has never seen them do before. Her grin is almost too much to bear. “Jon!”

“Sansa, no!”

“Jon, yes!”

“We cannot.”

“Yes, yes, yes, we can!”

“Sansa, we 100 percent cannot actually get married and keep all these gifts just to see Robb, Arya and Theon all squirm.”

“We don’t have to go through with it—just long enough to make them break and fess up. Can you imagine if we just walked back to your apartment now and told Robb and Theon we were getting married? They would go crazy and confess in no time. Then, we can just remind them of it any time we need a favor or need to hold something over their heads.”

Jon laughs. “OK, what just happened to the real Sansa Stark?”

She turns on her chair so that she’s facing him directly and tilts her head slightly and puts her hands on her hips. He smirks. “Yeah, there she is,” he says, making her break her serious expression again with laughter. 

Jon sighs, more or less having already given in. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be funny—“

“Come on, Jon! Live a little! Don’t you want to be engaged to me?!” 

The challenge in those blue eyes is sending his blood to places it shouldn’t go in a public place. He narrows his eyes at her playfully. “Am I supposed to answer that honestly?”

Sansa juts her chin forward.”You know you want to!”

“Yes, yes, I do want to,” he says, practically growling.

“Ha, I kn—“

But he smothers her words with his lips. She responds immediately, turning to deepen the kiss and taking his head in her hands, her fingers pushing into his hair again. For several minutes, they practically melt into each other. When finally pulling back for air, she breathes into his lips. “So, yes?”

“Yes,” he answers.

Neither one is really sure what they have agreed to, but does it really matter if it means there’s going to be more kissing?

* * *

“You’re WHAT?”

“We’re getting married,” Sansa says to her brother like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

She and Jon are holding hands, standing in the living room of Robb and Jon’s apartment, having asked Robb and Theon to sit on the couch because they had big news.

“But you two aren’t even a couple,” Robb says. “You don’t even like each other.”

“Robb, don’t be ridiculous,” Sansa says. “Just because we didn’t tell you doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks.”

“Weeks!?!” 

Jon brings Sansa’s hand to his chest. “I’ve actually been in love with her for quite a bit longer than a few weeks, mate.”

Sansa’s cheeks flush and she can’t help but wonder if he was always such a good liar.

“Do mom and dad know?”

“No,” Sansa responds to her brother, “And you can’t tell them yet! We have a plan, and I want to tell them on my terms, OK?”

“We don’t want a whole big thing,” Jon says. “Something in the next couple of months.”

“In the Godswood,” Sansa adds. “I’ve always wanted to get married there."

Robb turns to look at Theon whose eyes look like they are about to pop out of his head.

“Congratulations!” Theon half-screams, standing up and pulling Jon and Sansa into a group hug. “This is brilliant! I’m so happy. You’re obviously as happy as a pig in shit, Snow. You know what? I’m going to plan this wedding for you!”

Jon and Sansa look at each other, unsure where this is going.

“I know what you’re thinking! What the fuck does Theon know of weddings, right? But Asha’s an event planner. She’ll make it perfect! I’ll go call her right now! Robb, come help me!”

“Whu—“ Robb can barely get a word in before Theon grabs him by the arm and pulls him not just out of the living room, but out of the apartment, down the stairs and out the door.

“What was that?” Sansa asks.

“Panic,” Jon says.

Sansa laughs. "So the plan is working!"

* * *

Meanwhile, once they make it outside, Robb finally pulls his arm away from Theon. “What was that?”

“Panic!” Theon says, pulling his phone out. 

“Let’s just tell them. What’s the big deal?”

But Theon doesn’t answer because he’s got a call connecting.

“Are you seriously calling your sister right now?”

“No, I’m calling _your _sister,” Theon says, and just then Arya picks up and Theon puts her on speaker. “Yo! We have a problem! Wait ’til you hear this, Jon and Sansa just came into the apartment and told us they’re getting married.”

“Wait, I’m putting you on speaker, Gendry’s here.”

“Hey! I don’t want any part of this!” Gendry says.

“That XBox is for you!” Arya exclaims.

“Yeah, dude, you’re in this!” Theon says. 

“But did you miss the part where he said, they’re actually getting married!” Robb cuts in. 

Arya laughs. “They are not getting married.”

“Uh, and you know this how?” Robb asks.

“I know because I know our sister. Sansa would never tell you she was getting married before she told mom and dad. This isn’t how she would go about it at all. They probably figured out what we’re doing and are trying to give us shit.”

“They looked pretty fucking convincing,” Robb said. 

“I’m not saying they’re not in love,” Arya replied. “Those two have been nutty for each other for ages.”

“Why didn’t I know about it, then, and why haven’t they been a couple this whole time?”

Arya scoffs. “Because you’re clueless and they’re idiots.” 

Theon cuts in. “Agreed on both counts, but we’re getting off the point. You think they figured out our scheme and they’re calling our bluff, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Just come clean, then,” Gendry says. “They probably think the whole thing’s funny.”

“Yeah, and you know what would be even funnier?” Arya says. 

“Babe, no!”

“What, Arya?” Robb asks getting exasperated. 

“Calling their bluff back!”

“I’m confused," Theon says.

“You’re always confused, Theon. But what I’m saying is that if they want to pretend to get married to call our bluff, let’s call theirs by going along with it.”

“So we all just going to pretend Jon and Sansa are really getting married?” Theon asks.

“I don’t know, Arya. Sansa is, like, sneaky stubborn,” Robb says. “You think she’ll break, but she won’t.”

Theon shrugs looking at Robb. “Snow will crack, and when he does we can give him a world of shit. I like this plan.”

Robb sighs. “Fine.”

Arya laughs. “OK, losers. We're agreed. They want to get married? We'll help them get married. Can't wait until she tells me herself. We’ll talk later.”

Theon puts his phone back in his pocket and turns to look at Robb again, who is looking up to the picture window that looks out from the living room of the apartment upstairs. Jon and Sansa are standing there, arms around each other. Theon looks up and gives them a thumbs up.

“You really want to keep pretending to be my girlfriend-slash-fiancee just to give them shit?” Jon asks.

Sansa grins. “There are fringe benefits.” And she leans in to kiss him again. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remain overwhelmed at the response. Thank you all so much! I have mapped out the rest of this insanity, and I think it will take just two more chapters. Given how many of you all have followed this and commented on it, I sincerely hope the rest doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> Also, those of you who guessed that this would come down to the iron wills of the Stark sisters were right ;) That is the gist of this short chapter. 
> 
> Thank you all again for reading!

Arya waits an entire 24 hours for Sansa to say something about her supposed engagement to Jon.

But Sansa doesn’t.

They have been living together for the last year, a choice that surprised everyone when they made it. But despite not getting along especially well as young children, the sisters are actually great roommates when it’s just the pair of them away from their parents and brothers. Their personalities and habits are different but complementary.

Sansa loves to cook.

Arya will clean for food. (Never tell her mother this.)

Sansa loves staying up late sketching.

Arya is an early riser.

And so on and so forth.

They live close to the middle of town, so they can be near to the boutique where Sansa now works as a print designer and to the gym Arya manages with her boyfriend Gendry. Since the boys’ apartment is only a 15-minute walk away, they spend a lot of time there, too.

Arya knows she should expand her circle of friends beyond her older siblings, their friends and her boyfriend, but she loves them all so much and they’re so fucking entertaining, why bother?

Take this registry scheme, for instance. She had never laughed harder than when they’d all crowded over Robb’s computer to create it. So much beer had been consumed, she was half-surprised when she woke up the next day with an email asking her to verify her choices. They did actually manage it. The thing even had a picture of the “happy couple,” one Arya had sneaked a few months before when Jon and Sansa were talking on the couch of her parents’ house for an anniversary party the kids had thrown Ned and Cat. They were leaning into one another, likely to talk over the din of the party, but likely also because they wanted to jump each other’s bones. This fact has been obvious to Arya for a very long time. When they actually get married—this is an inevitability at this point—they’ll be thanking her. They should be thanking her right now, to be honest.

More to the point, if they are going to play this game of trying to smoke out the scheme, they need to tell Arya.

But Sansa has not told Arya even though it’s been a whole day since she told Robb.

Eventually, Arya breaks.

Guard up, she walks into Sansa’s room, where Sansa is busy at the drafting table Robb and Jon gave her as a graduation gift. (It was from Jon, really.)

“I know what you’re doing,” Arya says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sansa replies, not looking up.

“Going along with this whole wedding thing.”

“What?” Sansa asks innocently.

“Robb told me.”

“Of course he did.” Sansa sighs, and Arya is deeply impressed with her sister’s poker face. “Well, I guess now you know. Jon and I are engaged!” She grins and shakes her shoulders as the giddiest of brides to be would.

Arya is unmoved.

Sansa narrows her eyes.

“What?” Arya asks, mimicking her sister’s innocent voice.

“I thought you would be happier,” Sansa says. “You’re the one dropping not at all subtle hints about him to me all the time.”

“I _am_ happy for you,” Arya says, plainly.

“Is there something you wanna ask me or, I don’t know . . ._tell me_, Arya?”

“Why haven’t you told mom and dad?”

“As I told Robb, we’re waiting for the right moment. Jon and I haven’t been seeing each other all that long. To everyone else it will feel too sudden—you know how mom is.”

“What exactly are you waiting for?”

Sansa hesitates for a moment, but recovers quickly. “We’re still planning things out. I didn’t even want to tell Robb yet, but they’re roommates and you know as well as I do that Jon can’t lie about anything.”

“That is . . . true.” Arya smiles. “That’s the crazy thing about of this whole scheme of yours. It’s so wrapped up in actual truths that it’s hard to spot the lie.”

Santa turns back to her drafting table. She looks at Arya from the side of her eyes. They both know that they know, but in a staring contest between Stark sisters, neither wants to be the first to blink.

“OK, truth time,” Arya says, and Sansa turns back to her again, thinking this is it. “You are a very good liar, Sansa, but you can’t lie to me because I know your tells. So you have to answer this question honestly or else I will know: Do you really love Jon and do you really want to marry him just months from now?”

Sansa purses her lips. Then she takes a deep breath. Her eyes are clear and wide open. “Yes.”

Arya shakes her head and laughs. “I underestimated you, sister. I legitimately want to bow down to your genius right now.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Arya, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this very fake wedding! I know you are faking it, but you can still answer that question honestly because you _are_ in love with him and you _do_ want to marry him, like, yesterday. And that boy has been an idiot for you forever, which means he can answer honestly too if I were to interrogate him, and don't think I won't!”

“You seem to be really fixated on truth telling. Is there something you want to confess, perhaps?”

Arya smirks. “No, but I just want to say that when all of this is over, I want us to combine our powers because we might actually be able to take over the world.”

“OK, whatever.”

“I legitimately can’t wait for you two to get married, and that is also the truth.”

Sansa blushes and hates herself for doing so. She knows Arya, too, is telling the truth in this moment. Sansa knows this is actually something that would make her entire family very happy.

But she’s still not going to be the first to cry uncle.

“Well, since you brought it up, I have a question for you, dear sister,” Sansa says. 

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Will you be my maid of honor?”

Arya can, in fact, read her sister like no one else, and Sansa’s expression right now can be boiled down to a single word: _checkmate_.

"I mean you are Jon and super close, and you're my sister. I can't picture it without you by my side in a dress of my choice."

Arya is basically throwing daggers at Sansa with her eyes. “I both love and hate you right now.”

Sansa laughs. “OK?”

Arya stands up and grunts on her way out of the room.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Sansa says. “And I’m making your dress fitting appointment right now!”

Sansa shakes her head and goes back to the sketch in front of her. She’s been working on it all evening, and it isn’t until now that it really hits her what it is.

It’s a dress, a simple one, with a deep v neck, three-quarter sleeves and a flowy tea-length skirt, non-traditional for what it is.

A wedding dress.

_Her_ wedding dress.

It’s not what a younger version of herself would have pictured because that girl only pictured herself, not the person standing next to her. Picturing herself next to Jon, this is what she is wearing.

Sansa feels overcome with emotion. Her eyes tear up. And then she hears an animated Arya out in the living room and gets a funny feeling. She follows the sound of her younger sister’s voice, but only hears the tail end of the conversation.

That’s all she needs to hear, though.

“Yes, mom, this Saturday,” Arya says, turning to face Sansa with a gleam in her eye. “She has really big news she wants to share with everyone—you might even want to invite Aunt Lysa.”

Sansa lunges at Arya, but Arya evades her easily around the trunk they use as a coffee table.

“Sounds great! I’ll talk to you soon! Love you!” Arya hangs up and jumps on the couch. “I see your bridesmaid’s dress, and raise you a family dinner!”

Sansa takes a deep breath. “I think sea foam would be a good color on you.”

“Do you think Aunt Lysa will come if I call her?”

“Good night, Arya,” Sansa says, turning around and heading back into her room.

She flops down on her bed and screams into her pillow. After a minute she rolls over and picks her phone up from her nightstand and texts Jon.

_**Sansa**: I’m starting to think we should elope._

_**Sansa**: Also, Arya is insane._

_**Jon**: Will you divorce me if I tell you I think insanity runs in your family?_

_**Sansa**: We have to be married before we can get divorced._

_**Jon**: We have to be engaged before we can be married._

_**Sansa**: Touché._

_**Jon**: So, um_

_**Sansa**: Um?_

_**Jon**: You know how you said you wanted to meet Dany?_

_**Sansa**: Yes_

_**Jon**: Do you want to go to Dragonstone with me this weekend to explain to her that we're not actually getting married and that our friends are crazy?_

Sansa thinks about Arya’s conversation with her mother who Sansa must now avoid at all costs, if she's to outwit Arya. 

_**Sansa**: I do!_

_**Sansa**: Can we stay until Sunday?_

* * *

“Joooooon! I can’t believe you called and I missed it! Uuuuugggh! It’s Aunt Dany! Sorry I wasn’t around, but you can blame my now very much fired therapist who told me to do a media fast for a week. I lasted, like, half a day—honestly, how did people exist without phones and the internet! But, of course, that’s when you would choose to call me back! Anyway, Missandei said you are coming to visit this weekend. Like, effin’ FINALLY. I’m buying your ticket right now! Oh, and I will ship you back home immediately if you show up without Sansa, officially the most understanding fiancee ever. Honestly, nephew, an Xbox on your registry? She’s a saint. Call me!” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is less crack, more fluff — or all crack depending on your view of how soon is too soon for two people getting married. 
> 
> Since this is slightly Friends inspired there's a reference to Jennifer Aniston and a movie she made 20 years ago with Paul Rudd (who looks exactly the same) that I do recommend.

Sansa and Jon leave early in the morning on Friday. For Sansa, knowing the schedules of everyone in her life is just part of being considerate, but the upside on this morning is that she knows exactly when to call her mother so that she doesn’t answer. Sansa leaves a message saying that she’s going out of town for the weekend and that Arya suggesting a family dinner was her having a laugh at Sansa’s expense.

By the time she responds, Sansa is in the air, blissfully asleep with her head on Jon’s shoulder in the first class seats Dany bought them, so she misses her mother’s message, in which Catelyn wonders if the big news Sansa has to share is the fact that she and Jon are suddenly in the kind of relationship that involves weekends away. 

Sansa listens to the message when they land. She doesn’t think it’s sudden, but she supposes only she knows her feelings. She also doesn’t think that her mother’s message—there was no real question in it—needs response at the moment. 

And anyway, they’re barely inside the airport and off the plane when Missandei and Greyworm, Dany’s assistant and driver respectively, take their overnight bags and lead them to the car and then on a tour through Dragonstone, a small coastal resort town built around the castle that was once home to the royal family back when Westeros still had one. It was officially closed when the monarchy was dissolved several generations ago. Buying it back from the government, which didn’t want to bother paying for its upkeep, was the first thing Dany did after her father, who had no interest in the country that had expelled his family, passed away.

(That Jon is a direct descendant of kings is news to Sansa, but he shrugs it off with his usual adorably awkward humility.)

Dany would have met them at the airport herself, Missandei says, but her trainer Dario insists on no days off. Their workouts are broadcast live on his Instagram stories and have quite the following. So it is that when they finally arrive at the castle, Danaerys is waiting in the chicest workout clothes Sansa has ever seen with her platinum hair pulled back in a set of intricate braids that likely take at least a half-hour to put in and take out. 

“Aaaaaah!” She screams as they walk into the main hall and doesn’t stop until she’s jumped into an unsuspecting Jon’s arms and almost knocked him down in the process. "I can’t believe you’re finally here!"

Turning to Sansa, she says, “Oh, but the girl is _beautiful_—and like legitimately tall, not just taller than me, which is more or less everyone.”

Sansa smiles brightly. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Danaerys. Thank you so much for flying us down here. It’s incredibly generous.”

“Are you kidding?! Do you know how excited I am about this wedding? I already completed the online ordination thing, which—totally no pressure—but if you’re looking for an officiant, I am soooo ready!”

“Dany, about that—it’s actually why we’re here. Listen—“

“We’d love to have you marry us!” Sansa cuts in.

Dany’s eyes get wide and she covers her mouth with her hands. “Really?” 

Jon looks over to Sansa with a similar look of shock. “Really?” 

Before Sansa can stop her. Dany jumps into her arms and when she lets go, there are tears in her eyes. The sight takes Jon aback. He would never claim to know his aunt all that well, but this is the happiest he has ever seen her. 

“I’m going to need a moment to pull myself together,” Dany says, wiping tears. “Also, I’m sweating like a pig. My trainer is _relentless_. Never hire an Instagram influencer! You two are probably starved or exhausted or both. I’ve had a room set up for you in the East wing, which has the best views. There is a stair case down to the beach, too. Let’s all freshen up and then I’ll have my chef whip up whatever you guys want.”

“Thank you,” Sansa says, taking Jon’s hand. “This is really so kind of you.”

“Anything for family,” Dany says, sincerely, giving Jon another hug and pulling Sansa into it too.

When they get to the room, it’s huge, with wall-to-wall windows overlooking the ocean. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, dropping his bag on the king-size bed.

Sansa shrugs, doing the same. “She was so happy to see you. It seemed like an easy thing to give her—even if we tell her the truth, that doesn’t mean she couldn’t do it eventually.”

“Are you saying you want to marry me for real, Sansa?” he asks playfully, stepping up to her.

Sansa takes both of his hands and says, “Let’s go down to the water!”

With a smile, Jon follows as she eagerly runs over to the balcony. There’s a staircase at the end of it that goes down into a rocky cliff, along the side of which stair steps have been carved. Ten minutes later, they are alone on a secluded beach, surrounded on three sides by the jagged cliffs and on one by the water. Sansa sheds her shoes and walks into it. The water is calm, the surf barely reaching the hem of the Maxi dress she’s wearing. 

She turns back toward him and beckons him to follow her. 

"It’s really beautiful here,” she says, turning back to face the ocean.

“Beautiful is right,” Jon replies and Sansa blushes as she realizes he’s looking at her. 

Just beyond where they are standing, further into the water, there is a large stone statue of a dragon.

There are also dragons carved into the sides of the castle, and on the wrought iron gates surrounding it.

"What is it with your ancestors and dragons?” Sansa asks.

“Dany says our ancestors _were_ dragons,” Jon answers.

Sansa raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"I know I joked that your family was insane,” Jon says, "but honestly my gene pool is the real wild card here."

Sansa playfully runs her fingers through Jon’s hair. "As long as the kids have hair like this, I’m OK with it."

"I hope they have _your_ hair.”

Sansa laughs, but she notices that Jon’s smile has faded. She wants to say something, but he beats her to the punch.

"What are we doing, Sansa?”

“What do you mean?"

“Why are we pretending we’re going to get married?"

"Do you really think I’m pretending?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know if you are. This started out as a laugh, but if I’m honest, it’s driving me a little crazy. I don’t want to have a pretend wedding with you. I wanted to ask you out on a date and somehow we ended up here."

Sansa took a deep breath. The wind was picking up, blowing her hair every which way. She ran her hand over it to try to calm it down. Looking away, she said, "You know how people always say that girls start planning their weddings from like age four?"

Jon nods.

“Obviously, that is a cliche that is mostly untrue. Except it’s always been true of me. I was that ridiculous child." 

"You have never been ridiculous Sansa." 

She smiles. "Anyway, the thing that I always thought was weird about marriage when I was a kid was that when you meet the person you’re going to marry, they are a stranger to you. That is actually a little scary when you think about it. But not you, Jon. You have _never_ been a stranger to me, which is probably why it took me so long to figure it out."

He feels his heart begin to race. "Figure what out?"

Sansa laughs nervously and again tucks her hair behind her ear. "There’s this movie I love with Jennifer Aniston. It’s kind of underrated actually. It’s called The Object of My affection. She’s a social worker and she works with this group of teenage girls . . . at one point, one of the girls is thinking about sleeping with her boyfriend and all the other girls keep asking, ‘Do you love him?' Jennifer Aniston’s character says she would never sleep with someone she didn’t consider a friend, so she says that a better question to ask yourself before you sleep with someone is, ‘Do you like him?’"

“Sansa—"

"I like you, Jon. I like you more than I like anyone else. Yes, we weirdly went from getting coffee together—those were totally dates, captain clueless!—to talking about a marriage and, no, that wouldn’t have happened without Theon, Robb and Arya's stupid scheme but . . . If we were to get married today we wouldn’t be jumping into a relationship with no lead up. We _are_ in a relationship and have been for a long time—a _friendship. _That’s the best kind of relationship there is.”

Jon takes Sansa’s face into his hands. “Are you finished?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because I really want to kiss you right now, if you’ll le—“

Sansa cuts him off with her own lips. They snake their arms around each other and kiss long and slow. There are no thoughts wasted on weddings or registries or anything else. In this moment, it’s just Jon and Sansa, ankle deep in the water and in over their heads in love. 

When they finally pull away, foreheads still touching, Sansa says, “So what do you think?”

“I think . . . I have a question to ask you.”

Recognition comes over her, and she tries to pull away further, but Jon tightens his grip and chuckles. “Sansa Stark —“

“Jon, no!”

He pauses for a moment. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t do it.”

Sansa squeezes her eyes shut. “OK, go ahead.”

“Sansa Stark, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

They both burst into laughter and melt into another kiss.

This time, when they pull away, Sansa says, “Is it really wise for us to get engaged if we’ve never even had sex?”

“We can remedy that immediately.”

It’s another hour before they are back in their room and sharing the pool-sized tub so they can get the sand out of all the places a person can get sand when they are rolling around in it.

* * *

“I have to hand it to them,” Arya says, sitting in the couch in Robb’s apartment the next day. “It takes serious commitment to buy two plane tickets just to stick with a gag. I kind of respect it.”

“You need to get over yourself, and just let us confess,” Robb replies. “Bringing mom into it just means we’re going to have to explain ourselves to her and dad. Not a cool move!”

“What, mama’s boy,” Theon says, "you’re afraid she’s going to ground your grown ass?”

At that moment, the doorbell rings, and Robb gets up to see that it’s Gendry, who walks in with an alarmed look on his face.

“Have you guys checked Instagram today?” he says by way of greeting, walking into the living room.

“What is it?” Arya asks. 

“It’s a post that’s gone viral by that heiress Danaerys what’s her face."

"Wasn't she one of the people we sent a fake invite to?" Theon asks.

"Yes!" Gendry replies. "And now look!”

Gendry holds his phone up. Dany has posted a picture of Sansa and Jon holding each other, and the caption reads: #somarried #family 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, again, everyone for supporting this little crack fic that could. I hope you all enjoy the conclusion! Picks up right where we left off the last chapter.

“What. The actual. Fuck!”

Arya smacks Theon in the back of the head. “Shut up, Greyjoy!”

All four of them are crowded over Gendry’s phone trying to make sense of the photo. 

“That has to be fake,” Robb says.

“Whether or not the picture is real, how is it on Daenerys Targaryen’s Instagram!?!” Theon asks. 

“I hate to say it, but that’s a legit question,” Gendry says. “If they are trolling us, this is ninja level. I would never have guessed it from either of them.”

“_Something_ is going on,” Arya says. Noticing Dany’s profile photo. “Wait, she was live on stories!”

Gendry taps his phone and it starts.

_'Queen Dany' was live an hour ago. _

_“Hi, everyone! You’re not going to believe this, but yours truly just officiated her very first wedding! Now, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, but if you’re interested, make your pitch in my messages—serious couples only! Anyway, I’m sure you’re dying to know: Who did Dany marry? My nephew! Ew, that sounded weird. I didn’t marry him, obvs. I married him to his beautiful girlfriend! Say, hi, guys!”_

[Dany taps the screen and the camera switches from selfie mode to show Jon and Sansa standing about 20 feet away at the hearth of the great room they are in. Hearing her, they turn and Sansa smiles and waves. Jon’s brow furrows into his usual resting skeptic face, making Dany laugh. Suddenly, the camera switches back.]

_"That’s Jon, my nephew. You’re probably wondering, Dany, how can you have a nephew who is your age? My family is literally insane. Or was insane. They’re all dead now except me and Jon. Literally insane. Probably also incestuous. I mean, royals, am I right? Anyway, again, you are probably thinking Jon doesn’t look appropriately giddy for having just gotten married by moi. That’s just Jon. Trust me, he’s literally the world’s most stoic person. He’s also super private, so he didn’t let me put the actual ceremony in my stories. LAME!_

[Dany pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath.]

_“Actually, guys he’s not lame. He’s super nice and the only family I have, and his fiancé Sansa—excuse me, WIFE Sansa—is amazing. I’m so excited for them and their life together. I’ve literally never been this emotional._

[Dany covers her face with her free hand for a moment and when her face is visible again, there are tears in her eyes.]

_“I’m just really happy, you guys, and I wanted to share it. Anyway, bye.”_

Once Dany’s story ends and her profile is visible again, Gendry puts his phone back in his pocket. 

“Wow,” he says.

He, Arya, Robb and Theon all look at one another in stunned silence. 

“I have no idea how they pulled it off,” Arya says, “but I’m actually kind of touched.”

“And we’re officially in the Twilight Zone,” Robb says.

"There’s really only one thing we can do,” Arya says. 

Theon’s eyes get wide. “If you say, 'pretend we didn’t see this,' I swear to God, Arya Stark.”

She laughs. “Find your chill, dude. That’s not what I was going to say."

* * *

The next day, on the Lyft home from the airport, Sansa’s cuddled into Jon on the backseat, twiddling with the necklace she’s wearing, a ring—an old Targaryen family heirloom to be exact—dangling from it like a pendant. 

“You OK?” Jon asks.

She lifts her head up and smiles. “Better than OK. You?”

“Same."

"Regretting anything?”

Jon chuckles. “Not at all. Well, I am regretting the fact that we won’t get to share a bed tonight.”

“Who says?”

“Not sure how Robb is going to feel about his little sister spending the night. Also, you’re kind of . . . “ He trails of, realizing the Lyft driver can probably hear, but then leans into her ear and whispers, “vocal,” sending shivers up her spine.

Sansa can’t help but blush. “Only with you.”

As the car pulls up to Jon’s, she moves to get out as well. He asks, “Are you sure?”

“It’s early. Arya is probably over here anyway. Let’s just tell them all at once and end this. We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later.”

Once they are inside the building, they see it. A huge banner is hanging above the doorway to the apartment. It reads, “Congratulations, Jon & Sansa!”

Jon’s head drops into his chest and Sansa literally cackles, bending over as she laughs until she’s crying. 

Jon shakes his head, but Sansa can see that he’s smiling. “I genuinely believe, you and Arya could keep this up until you die of old age.”

“Ugh. I hate to agree, but I don’t think I can deny it.”

Jon turns the knob to go in and hears footsteps and whispering on the other side. “Brace yourself,” he says as he opens the door.

“SURPRISE!” 

While Robb, Theon, and Gendry all throw white confetti and glitter at them the moment Jon and Sansa walk in, Arya pops open a champagne bottle and immediately soaks them both. She has gotten about as much as she can out of the bottle, when Jon asks, “Are you done?”

“Yes,” Arya says with a laugh. “You won so we thought it was only fair to celebrate your victory properly.”

“Wait, you’re not congratulating us about getting married?” Sansa asks.

“Let’s stop the farce, OK?” Robb says as they all walk into the living room, except Jon who goes over to the bathroom to get a towel for him and Sansa to dry off the champagne. 

“You somehow found out about our fake wedding and decided to go along with it, all the way to Drangonstone,” Theon says. “We do hereby acknowledge your commitment to showing us up."

"Yeah, good show, well played, yada yada,” Arya says. “Now you have to tell us how you did it.”

Jon comes back in and hands the towel to Sansa. “Long story short: Daenerys is my aunt. She got one of your ‘invitations’ and called me.”

“So did Brienne’s dad,” Sansa adds. "So we decided to have a little fun with you.”

“You guys both know a billionaire,” Theon says. “What the hell! Talk about holding out!”

“I don’t like talking about my dad’s family,” Jon says. “Dany is a . . . special character.”

“She’s delightful, actually,” Sansa says.

Jon gives her a knowing look.

“OK, and also a little intense,” Sansa concedes. “After she saw the invitation and registry, Jon was afraid she would think _he _was in on the scam, so we went down there to make sure everything was OK. No hard feelings. We canceled most of the orders, but she did say we could keep the stuff that already shipped, including the godforsaken X-Box.”

"Sweet!” Gendry says. Arya responds by elbowing him in the ribs. “Ow! What?”

“So everything’s OK? We didn’t ruin your relationship with her or anything, did we?” Robb asks.

“No,” Jon says. “Everything is fine. She has been asking me to go visit her for years, so she was just excited that we were there.”

“Are you going to go back?” Theon asks. “And also, can we all come next time?”

Sansa laughs. “Yes, she definitely said we could.”

“Well, I hereby apologize,” Robb says, “since this whole thing started with me complaining that I was broke. I definitely didn’t mean for you two to fake a relationship and and get fake-married on Instagram.”

Jon and Sansa look at each other. “Um, now that you mention that,” Jon says.

"It’s not fake,” Sansa says, taking Jon’s hand. “We’re a legit couple, as of this weekend, and we appreciate the kick in the pants your little scheme provided.”

“Ha!” Theon says. “You’re fucking welcome, Snow.”

Jon smirks. “Thank you, I guess.”

Pointing and Robb and Arya, Sansa adds, "And don’t either of you give me any overprotective sibling crap—you both love Jon and so do I.”

Robb sighs. “Fine.”

“_Fine!_” Arya seconds.

“OK, before we do anything else, I need to wash this champagne off,” Sansa says. 

Gendry asks, “I have to get going. Do you want me to take you two home?”

“Sure,” Arya says with a shrug.

Sansa agrees too, after Jon promises to come over later. 

Once home, as Sansa is getting ready to get in the shower, Arya comes into her room. She notices that Sansa is playing with the necklace she is wearing, but when she spots Arya, Arya sees her tuck it into her robe.

“Hey, San, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What?”

“You two didn’t actually get married, right?”

“You know me, Arya. Do you honestly believe that I would elope like that?”

Arya crosses her arms. “I don’t believe you would, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t!”

Sansa smiles. “Is there something you would like me to admit to, specifically?”

Arya narrows her eyes for a moment, but then decides to let it go. “No, I’m just happy for you.”

The sisters hug and Sansa says, “I take back what I said about the sea foam.”

* * *

Three months later, Jon and Sansa move in together.

Three months after that, they tell everyone they’re engaged. 

Exactly one year after Dany’s infamous Instagram live, they have a ceremony in the Godswood, just like Sansa always wanted. She wears the dress she designed and made herself. Arya is maid of honor and wears a dress of her own choosing.

Dany doesn’t go, in an effort not to draw attention away from the happy couple.

And anyway, she was at the real wedding. 


End file.
